


thirty five

by cbstrike



Series: type for permanence [2]
Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Feelings, Ficlet, Fluff, Romance, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:07:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29020953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cbstrike/pseuds/cbstrike
Summary: The day had been too busy, chaotic, that right then, at 2:04 in the morning after their wedding, it was still unconsummated.
Relationships: Robin Ellacott/Cormoran Strike
Series: type for permanence [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2129028
Comments: 9
Kudos: 57





	thirty five

He’s had better days, he thinks, casting a glance at Robin next to him as though nervous she could hear his thoughts.

Her mouth was slack open, drooling a little on the pillow and he chuckles softly at how ordinary their wedding night turned out to be.

The day had been too busy, chaotic, that right then, at 2:04 in the morning after their wedding, it was still unconsummated.

There had been a sexy lacy bustier underneath Robin’s dress. And he liked it when he saw it, but she’d been too drunk and exhausted that she practically clawed herself out of it, desperate for sleep.

It doesn’t feel any different, being married. He doesn’t love Robin more now than he did last night. Indeed, he’s had more epoch-changing moments in his life. Like that day they finally got together. Or when his leg had been blown off. Or that fateful day Robin walked into his life.

He doesn’t regret getting married, of course, looking again at Robin and feeling guilty even at the thought. He decided he wanted Robin in his life for all his life long before they even got together. But marriage just felt redundant. They were already partners. How different is it, really, to be a husband? To have a wife?

 _Wife_.

It washed over him with the same force of a large wave to the face.

 _Wife_. He’s got a wife. Robin is his _wife_.

He shifted on his side, staring at Robin’s still sleeping, still drooling face, trying to grasp the magnitude of this realisation. She is his wife now. And even though he couldn’t fully grasp it just yet, he finally understood that there was a world of difference between lover and spouse. Like she was suddenly more solid somehow.

He put a gentle hand to her face. _This is your wife_ , he told himself. Over and over he thought it, _she is your wife now, Cormoran._

And he smiles, half-wondering where these feelings were yesterday afternoon when the officiant announced it, when their friends and family cheered. It had pleased him, of course, but the circus-like frenetic energy of the event left him no real space to consider what was transpiring. What it meant.

He was being gentle in caressing her hair, but she woke up anyway, eyes gently fluttering, finding their way to his. And she smiles in that same way she does when she greets anyone hello or good morning and the reality of her, the permanence of her was suddenly astounding to him.

“You’re my wife.” he said, awed and bewildered in equal measure.

“Yeah.” she agreed, laughing a little.

They didn’t write their own vows, Cormoran uninterested in making personal promises in front of everyone they knew. But in this quiet, his wife the only thing in front of him, he whispered them all. That he will try not to be a right bastard, that she makes him a sort of happy he didn’t know was possible, that he’ll take care of himself so they can grow old together, that he will take care of her, love her, make her happy—all of the cliches he thought were bollocks, he was now whispering them to her, meaning every single word.

Happiness had never led him to tears. But overcome by the profundity of now being bound, he felt tears flowing down the bridge of his nose. He sniffled, and closed his eyes as Robin wiped the wet from his face.

And even this is ineffable, allowing himself this new kind of vulnerability not yet expressed in front of any woman that had ever shared his bed. It had always been his job to be rock-like, burdened by his gender and the turbulent and necessitous women he previously loved. But with Robin, with his _wife_ , he found himself safe. Allowed, perhaps for the first time in his life, to let truly go.

And so this was the moment of their marriage, witnessed only by the one person who mattered.

Robin pulled her hand from his face, making a square with her thumbs and pointer finger, in front of him. “Click,” she winked.

“Whut wuzzat?” he asked, voice a little thick from having just cried.

“I just wanted a picture.” she said. “I didn’t want to forget.”

He gave a small smile, a joke coming to him to lighten the thick air of sentimentality he had created. But in her presence he allowed himself the generosity of feeling, of happiness.


End file.
